War Is Defined As
by Fearfully and Wonderfully Made
Summary: Make love, not war. High school fic. Samka
1. Chapter 1

**_Chapter 1 – We Meet Again_**

Everyone thought that he was an exchange student, which was understandable because of his Croatian accent. But what they didn't know was that his family moved from Croatia at the beginning of the school year because it was the beginning of war for his home. His parents were trying to protect him and his brothers from being harmed.

Out of his family, he knew English better and understood it the best. He was the oldest of three boys, and his little brothers, Ivan and Michael were still in Jr. High. They were still learning their English.

He'd met people over the few weeks of summer that they had before school started. He'd walked the few blocks to Ellis Park from his house, and met a few guys who'd been playing basketball. They were short a player one day, and asked him to play. Given his 6'3" height, they discovered that he was pretty good for a guy that wasn't from America.

And now, he was walking down the cemented ground to the entrance of the school getting awkward eyes from nearly everyone that he passed. Maybe it was the fact that he was wearing a pair of black slacks and black boots with a white shirt; or maybe it was that the breeze was blowing through his hair which hadn't been cut in two weeks; or maybe it was that he hadn't shaved and was looking a little scruffier than usual. Or maybe it was just that he was a new guy.

He saw one of his friends leaning against the railing in the middle of the stairs, and he picked up his pace a little. He didn't want to seem eager to catch up to them, but he really didn't like feeling uncomfortable in the midst of people that he was almost a foot taller than. When his friend looked over at him and smiled, he relaxed because he didn't feel so dumb rushing to them.

"Luka. What's up?" the guy asked, reaching out and clapping a hand against his shoulder blade.

"John. Nothing much," he shrugged, "you?" He looked around at the group of people standing beside John, and realized that he recognized a few of them. A short girl with blonde and curly hair sat on the brick wall at the top of the stairs, he'd only remembered meeting her once. A girl leaned against the rail beside John, and waved, Luka knowing that he'd met her more than once.

"Just got my class list," John shrugged, shoving his hand into his pocket and he pulled out a folded over piece of paper.

"I got mine last week," he said, shoving two of his fingers into his shirt pocket and pulling out a piece of paper that resembled John's. He unfolded it and glanced over it before handing it to John. John's eyes immediately narrowed at the paper, pointing his index finger at some of the words on it while leaning over and showing the girl with curly hair.

"You have some classes with Sam," he said, looking up at Luka as he handed the paper to Sam and pointed her way. She looked over the paper before looking up and adding her listening ear. "I'm sure she'll show you around."

"Sure," she nodded immediately, smiling. She hopped off of the brick wall as the bell rang, and reached out to tug the sleeve of his shirt. Of the few people standing on the stairs, they were the first ones to walk into the building. "I'm kind of surprised that you have a junior English class," she said, glancing at him walking beside her out of the corner of her eye.

"I guess you've never heard my English," he smiled, looking down at her. He was a foot taller than her, given. He paused, delicately putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "You're a junior?" he asked, he wasn't sure that was the word that he was supposed to use.

"No, I'm not. I'm actually a sophomore," she said, "I just take a couple of junior classes. I home schooled for a part of last year. I got ahead a little." She smirked because she was proud of herself. He smiled, and he nodded to let her know that he understood.

"Are we in the same classroom?" he asked.

"Yeah. Just stick by me and I'll walk you through it," she said, looking down at his class schedule again. "It looks like we also have the same history class. You don't study U.S. history where you're from?" she asked teasingly.

"Croatia. We don't study history in Croatia. Something about not bringing up the past that makes war easier over there," he smiled sheepishly with a shrug.

"We study history to learn from our past mistakes. I'll tell you what, you have any questions, ask me and I'll see what I can do," she told him, patting his upper arm. He nodded, his mouth slightly hanging open as he moved his jaw back and forth on its hinges. He was listening intently to her, doing his best to understand.

"Thanks," he said breathlessly. She smiled, and walked towards the classroom that they'd spend their first hour in for the rest of the year. He paused, his gaze guiltily following her into the doorway. He didn't know why his eyes locked on her form walking from him, but her dark blue jeans were flared at the bottom, the black boots that she had on were small, and the blue t-shirt that she had on was pulled over a long-sleeve white shirt.

He soon followed her in through the doorway, and sat down in the desk behind her. His hands slid across the desk, and he let his fingertips hang off of the edge of the desk. He leaned forward on his elbows and slightly stood up to ask her a question.

"So, how many classes do I have with you?" he asked with a smile. She laughed, slightly shaking her head. Her eyes shut momentarily, brushing her hand across her forehead. She turned in her desk to look at him.

"Well, we have our first half of the day together. Now we'll never get a break from each other," she joked, rolling her eyes playfully

"I'm not complaining," he smiled, and she did the same. The bell rang again, and she turned in her seat to face the front. He smiled, and leaned his elbows back against the desk.

------

He wanted her. He knew that he shouldn't want her, he hadn't known her nearly long enough to want her like he did, but he did want her. He at least wanted to touch her just make sure she was real, but he shouldn't. After all, she was only 16 and he was 18.

But the age difference really didn't have anything to do with it, and he knew it. He didn't care that she was 16, and she'd still be 16 in the next few months; he didn't care that when he would have his nineteenth birthday she'd still be 16. He just wanted to know her more.

He'd sat close to her in every class by her request, and now the bell for lunch was about to ring. He didn't know what to do from there, and as he opened his mouth with his index finger pointing up, the bell interrupted his thoughts. He waited for her to climb out of the desk, and everyone else had left the room before she did.

"So, what do I do now?" he asked with a shrug. She laughed, slinging her backpack over the shoulder.

"Catch up with John, I guess," she shrugged. "I'm going home, and I'll be back after the class after lunch," she smiled, walking towards the door, him at her heels.

"And, you're going to do this everyday?" he asked, "You don't have a class after lunch?"

"No, I don't. I have stuff that I have to take care of at home," she smiled apologetically. She stopped in the doorway, and leaned her shoulder into the doorframe. His hand met the doorway and slid up as his arm reached higher then the top of the door.

"Are you going alone?" he asked, pursing his lips together. She stopped, looking down at the floor, and she let out a sigh. "Because you shouldn't go alone. I'll walk you if you'd like," he added, and that was when she knew that he just didn't want to be away from her.

"Really, Luka. I can take care of myself. I'm going to be doing this everyday, and you really don't have to walk me," she said, shaking her head. She pushed herself off of the doorframe, and walked through the silent and empty hall. Her boots echoed across the tile floor, and soon his did the same, as his pace was quick to catch up to her.

"I want to walk you, though, Sam. It'd really make my day," he said, walking beside her, keeping his eyes on her while occasionally glancing in front of him.

"I'll tell you what, I'm not going to ask you to walk me. Let's just say that you followed me to my house, and I didn't want to be impolite and not speak to you," she said with a sigh. She pushed the Velcro of her bag down, and adjusted the strap over her shoulder.

-----

She quietly shut the front door to the house behind her, and walked into the living room while clutching the strap to her bag in her hands. She saw the 4-month-old baby lying in the play pin, and gently walked to the edge of it. His eyes were open wide just looking around above him, and when he saw her he pointed his finger up at her with a smile.

She dropped her bag to the floor, and reached down to lift him up. Cradling him in her arms, she smiled. She'd missed him more than she though she would, and she held him to her close. She didn't know that she would miss him that much, and she realized that she'd be doing this everyday.

"Hey, kiddo. I've missed you," she smiled, kissing his forehead. "You look like you've grown while I was gone, Alex," she said, pulling back and brushing her fingertips down the side of his face. He giggled, and drool fell from his mouth.

She wiped it off of his mouth using her shirt at the hem of her blue, cotton t-shirt. She rubbed his back soothingly, and his forehead dropped into the crook of her neck. She had goose bumps holding her son in her arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2 – More Sudden Than a Gunshot Wound_**

_A Month Later…_

She hated doing that to her mom, asking her to watch Alex while she was gone. Her mom did enough just by taking care of Alex while she was at school, so she didn't really want to ask her to watch him now. But this conversation had been begging to be discussed for so long, and she had to take the only opportunity that had come up within the last 7 months to talk to Steve.

The wind was blowing its breeze through her hair as her steps were carrying her towards the tall standing tree at the top of a hill. Steve was walking beside her, his hands in his pockets, and he actually looked scared. He looked scared to say anything more than he already had. Her crossed arms squeezed around herself as she hugged herself in an attempt to get warm.

"I've tried to make it work, Steve, but it just doesn't," she said, shaking her head. Steve ripped his eyes from the grass in front of him flowing in the wind, and he looked at her with pursed lips. Needless to say, he was finally scared that she was serious.

"What do you mean it doesn't work?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows at her in confusion, "we seem to be working to me. I take you to school whenever you go home at lunch, and I take a break. We see each other everyday of the week, Sam."

"That's the point, Steve. You see _me_. You also have a son who is only 5 months old, and you've seen him maybe twice," she sighed exasperatingly, "you'd think that maybe you could see him."

"What do you want me to do, Sam? I have a job. I work 60 hours a week to buy stuff – to provide for you and him," he said, angrily raising his voice.

"Don't even pull that crap, Steve. You haven't provided for us. You work 60 hours a week for you and your buddies to have enough weed and beer to last you a lifetime," she said, glaring at him. Her narrowed eyes pierced through him, but he didn't fight back his anger.

"It didn't bother you before now," he said back through clenched teeth. The expression _his blood was boiling_ wasn't even close to how red his dark face was becoming.

"No, not until I owned the responsibility of another life it didn't," she countered. He recoiled, looking slightly taken aback. "It doesn't matter, Steve. He's more important now. I think," she squinted, her mouth fumbling with the words that she wanted to say, "I think that Alex is the only guy I have enough time in my life for. I think that he's the only person that I can make sure he has everything that he needs, for right now."

"I don't require much, Sammy," he said, shaking his head. His eyes were softening, his voice was softening, and his stance was softening. "I just want to see you, sweetie," he said gently, reaching over and resting his hand on her neck.

"You just don't understand, Steve. Whoever's in a relationship with me will have to be prepared to be in a relationship with Alex, too. I'm not sure that anybody's going to go for that, though. I mean, you're his father and you don't even want to see him," she shook her head, taking his hand from her neck and dropping it back down to his side.

"I do want to see him. I just don't have time to," he said, shaking his head. She sighed and looked down at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Steve, but if you have time for me you have time for Alex. It's now a package deal, Steve. Two for one, I thought you understood that," she said, shaking her head. Her eyes drifted back up to his, and the tears welling up were quickly fought back, "I know that it's hard for you to accept the responsibility for Alex, but he's worth it. You just can't see that."

"I don't think that you understand, Sammy. I own a part of you," he said.

"You can't recognize your responsibility when it's convenient. You're incapable of raising a child, Steve, you can barely take care of yourself," she laughed in the back of her throat. She walked towards the hill, in the direction of her house, but a few steps out she stopped and turned to him. "I do want to say thank you for giving me my son," she told him with a smile, and she walked down the hill.

She felt relieved, as though a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. The air was lighter, and making her shiver even more. It was emotional, her life was too emotional for there to be a Steve Curtis in it. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her nylon, black, button up jacket, and stepped onto the sidewalk.

She was walking by the park where all of her friends were hanging out together. Some of them were on the courts, the sounds of a thick, rubber basketball echoing in the windy city. She looked at her feet with a proud smile as she walked passed, and was caught off guard when Abby and their other good friend, Susan, rushed up tugging on either side of her.

"Hey, Sam," Susan said, tugging on her elbow. They dragged her back to the benches beside the court, and forced her to sit. They didn't give her a chance to speak; they were both experiencing overflow of the mouth. "What are you doing?" Susan asked, linking her arm with Sam's.

"Oh, you know? I finally had that talk with Steve. I broke up with him. He just wasn't willing to except his responsibilities," she shrugged as though it was no big deal.

"You told him off?" Susan asked, her voice showing her curiosity.

"Yeah, I told him, and then I thanked him for Alex," she smiled, her lips pressing together in distant thought. Susan was one of the few people who knew the entire story. Sure, John and Abby had an idea, and Deb, Chuck, and Dave knew all that was needed to know, but Susan knew nearly every detail of what Sam's problems were. She was easily Sam's best friend.

"What did he do?" Susan asked. Sam laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced up from Susan and at the courts, to see Carter explaining something about basketball to her new tall, dark, Croatian friend with the ball tucked beneath his arm and the other hand flailing about.

"He tried to tell me that he worked too much to see Alex. But he has enough time to see me until Alex's name is attached, you know?" she smiled at Susan sympathetically. "It's just not fair to him," she sighed, shaking her head, "Alex deserves to be better than that. Am I being a bad mother for leaving his father?" she asked Susan, her eyes squinting with wonder.

"No. No way. You are not. You love him so much that you told Steve if he didn't want to see Alex he couldn't be with you anymore. I'm sure that you'd do that to any other guy. Steve shouldn't be treated any differently just because he's the kids sperm donor," Susan said, putting her hand on Sam's back and soothingly rubbing her hand across it.

"Would I?" she asked, their slightly glazed eyes locking with questions in them. They stared at each other, trying to ask the questions without ever speaking. Sam ripped her eyes from Susan's and pushed herself from the bench, her hands still in her pockets, "I'm going to go. Mark begged me to make him some of my homemade cookies, and I feel like I haven't seen Alex all day."

"You haven't," Susan laughed, uncrossing her legs and standing up too. "Go home to your guy, and make Mark your famous cookies," Susan said, lightly smacking Sam's upper arm.

"How can you be out here all day? It's so cold," she said, shivering slightly as her teeth chattered together. Susan laughed, patting Sam's arm sympathetically.

"We're out here everyday. You need to get out more," she rolled her eyes, "it really wouldn't hurt Alex to get some sun, you know?"

"I seem to be told otherwise. It disappoints me every time I want to take him to take a look at the water and my mom gets offended and tells me it's a school night," she laughed in the back of her throat, still not willing to give up her hopes for Alex, "if it weren't for me getting pregnant, my dad would still be laying around the house and annoying her."

"I remember that. _Sam, when's your father going to get a job? When are you going to convince him that he's okay and he can go back to work?_" Susan mimicked Sam's mother, "if you would have just told him that he should go back to work he would have. You didn't need to get pregnant."

"The thing that surprises me the most is that he still thinks the world of me," Sam laughed, shaking her head. "I've got to get home. My parents want to go out to dinner or something," she said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder and in the direction of their house.

"All right. See you Monday," Susan smiled, and Sam smiled back. She turned around and slipped through the bars in the fence to get to the sidewalk. When she was a few steps from the first stoop of their block, she heard the fence shake vibrantly.

"Sam," Luka said breathlessly coming up behind her, "I've been needing some help in English." He took in a deep breath, and glanced over at her. She stopped, causing for him to halt too. "It's difficult for me to understand," he shrugged sheepishly.

"All right, yeah," she nodded her head. She really didn't know what to tell him. She couldn't help him before school; she didn't really want to leave Alex any earlier than she had too. She couldn't help him during lunch; she couldn't leave her mom to take care of Alex on her errand break. She couldn't help him after school, there was no time because she had to do homework, take care of Alex, and help Mark.

"You told me yesterday in class that if I needed help to just ask you," he pointed out. He turned to her, and shoved his hands in his pockets. She shifted her weight to the other foot, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, I know that I did. I don't really know when would be a good time. I have to make my little brother some cookies, and I think that I'm watching him tonight while my parents are going out to dinner. If you want to come over tonight so I can help you, I may be a bit distracted. He's only 10," she smiled apologetically.

"That's fine. I have 2 little brothers. They're 12 and 13. It really won't bother me," he said shaking his head. He pursed his lips together as he shrugged.

"Now, how come you never told me that?" she asked, playfully squinting her eyes.

"It just never came up," he shrugged. He lifted a hand from his pocket and dragged it through his hair.

"I'll see you around 6," she smiled, and he nodded immediately. She walked passed him and down the sidewalk to her house. He stared after her, and shook his head with a smile.

-----

Alex's cries started wailing throughout the house, and she was definite that the dog three houses down the street could hear him. She quickly shut the microwave door, and turned the heat on low. She rushed to Alex in his playpen, and she swept him into her arms.

Wrapping the one arm around his torso, she perched him at her hip as she hurried back into the kitchen. The timer started going off, and soon the timer on the microwave followed. She popped open the microwave and shoved a dashing hand into it, and snapped her hand back with a warm bottle clutched in her grasp.

She put the bottle in Alex's tiny hands, and she let him use her chest to help him hold it in his grasp. She pushed the button on the stove to turn the timer off, and she opened the oven. Grabbing the bottle from Alex, she set him down in the highchair, and she turned to take the cookies from the oven.

She shut the oven door, set the cookie sheet on the pad on the counter, and tossed the oven mitt onto the counter beside it. His quiet whimpers started again, and she picked him back up in her arms, holding him straddled against her hip. She picked up the bottle from the table, and perched the opening at his lips.

"Trying to do it yourself, buddy?" she asked upon his hands wrapping around the end of it. She made sure he was fed, and she washed the bottle once he was finished. He wasn't willing to be sat down in the playpen or to the floor; he was acting rather clingy.

"Are you okay, buddy? You're acting more clingy than usual," she said gently, smoothing her finger down the side of his face. His forehead dropped to the crook of her neck, and his heavy breaths seemed to regulate. "Mark, did you want one of those cookies?" Sam asked, walking down the hall to Mark's room.

"You made them already?" Mark asked, his head peeking out of his door. She nodded, and he took off down the hall. "I didn't think you'd make them so soon," he said, shaking his head. Sam followed him down the hall, and back into the kitchen.

"I was in the kitchen," she shrugged, "Did you need any help with your homework?" Mark's eyes momentarily left the stack of cookies and glared at her. His eyes soon rolled with a loud sigh accompanied to it.

"You helped me with it last night. Gah, Sam, you'd think you were my mom or something. When are you going to leave me alone?" he huffed. Mark was certainly in a bad mod. Her little brother was short with dirty blonde hair. He had deep chocolate eyes that she was almost willing to rip out.

"All right, shorty. Remember that you're eating my cookies," she said, shaking her head. The doorbell rang before she could say anything else, and she walked out of the kitchen t the front door, Alex still in her arms. He seemed to have fallen asleep, but when she peered at his face his eyes were open.

She opened the front door, and Luka was standing on the other side. He had his English book in his hand, and his other hand in his coat pocket. He raised his eyebrows upon seeing her, and smiled when he saw the baby in her arms.

"Hey, I was just getting started to think of dinner. Come on in," she said, taking a half step out of the doorway to make her offer official. She turned to go back into the kitchen, the phone starting to ring and Mark rushed to answer it. He asked no questions, just stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"Mark, this is my friend Luka," Sam said once Mar hung up the phone. When he saw Mark, Luka's eyes darted from the 10 year old to the baby, suddenly remembering that she had said that her little brother was 10. He started to nod his hand, reaching his hand out.

"Hey there," he said, his accent making Mark furrow is eyebrows. "We're going to do some English. Want to help me?" he asked, immediately kicking into his big brother mode.

"Umm, no. I'm going to go play games," Mark said, shaking his head. He had two things in his grasp when he walked off, a stack of cookies and a cold pop can. Luka shrugged watching Mark disappear, and that's when he noticed Sam looking at him with an amused arched eyebrow.

"Your little brothers don't give the cold shoulder too often?" she asked teasingly.

"Who's this?" Luka asked with curious excitement, breaking the silence and pointing at Alex in her arms. She smiled, and turned her head to Alex. Gently rubbing his head with her palm, she shifted him on her hip. Alex's hand trailed up to the other side of her neck and rested on her shoulder.

"This is Alex," she smiled, her gaze slowly shifting back to Luka when she could rip her eyes from Alex. Alex's breathing was falling into a rhythm, indicating that he w quickly falling asleep. Her mother told her that he had been cranky the moment that she left, and she noted that he had been clingy since the moment she got back.

"He's so little. I bet he's better at English than I am," Luka joked, leaning over to get a peek at the sleeping baby's face. He saw the eyelids closed, and he pushed his lips together in an apology. "Sorry," he added in a whisper.

"Don't worry about it. He likes noise. It assures him that he's not alone," she said, shaking her head. She looked at Alex again, and turned to the playpen, pressing her lips against Alex's temple. She laid him down, and covered him with the blanket. Turning the TV on, she turned her attention back to Luka. "You want to get started?"

He sat down on the couch, and her hands on her hips slowly left her figure as she moved to sit down beside him. He sat down on the middle cushion, and opened his English book to the page he was having trouble on. She sat down beside him on the side of the couch closest to Alex, and leaned her elbows forward on her thighs.

"I'm not getting the adjective thing," he said, running his fingertips over the words of the open page. "What is an adjective?" he asked, glancing at her with furrowed eyebrows. He turned his gaze back to the book, ignoring the words blaring from the TV.

"Okay," she sighed, pursing her lips together. "How would you describe me?" she asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He glanced at her and laughed uncomfortably while shaking his head.

"Umm, I don't know if," he trailed off, pushing his palms together and pursing his lips. She scooted closer to the edge of the cushion and searched his face for any other ideas. But she could think of none.

"Just try it," she said softly.

"Okay. You are," he gulped, "smart, amazing, beautiful, and otherwise indescribable." He gulped again, the lob that had formed in his throat sliding down his esophagus. Hitting his stomach, it became unsettled. She nodded her head with raised and approving eyebrows.

"Okay. Good. Do you understand predicate nominatives?" she asked, pushing her finger against the other section on the same page. He shook his head with pursed lips. "A predicate nominative is something that replaces a noun. Like, _Alex is my son. My son is Alex_," she said. He looked back at the open page, and paused, trying to gather something to say.

"Oh, I see. An adjective describes something, and a predicate nominative replaces a noun," he said, inhaling a deep breath. He didn't know how to react to the knowledge he'd just found out, so he ignored that he felt hurt. He did realize that she had a right to not tell him until it came up in conversation.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3 – These People Are Freakin' Out _**

Her room was secluded from the rest of the house. Her room had gotten larger since she had moved to the basement after Alex was born. It was bigger, even though the small staircase could be a problem sometimes, and it gave her enough room to share with Alex.

The walls of the 12-foot ceilings were finished while she was pregnant with him, and painted a white color. The steps to the area down below were just enough to make the upper part elevated from the lower part. Her room seemed square at an estimated 25-feet by 28-feet.

Down the stairs, there was a tan couch that would fold out if she ever needed the extra bed. It was surrounded by a matching set of end tables and a coffee table, not really remembering when they even got in there. But up the stairs were her bed, nightstands, a dresser, and Alex's crib.

The thing that surprised her the most about their basement is that it was just like a regular room secluded from the rest of the house. It was barely down below, it was at the back of the house, and the rest of the bedrooms were all up stairs. The important thing was that she'd have privacy if she wanted it.

Although, once getting Mark into bed and Alex asleep, and after Luka left, she took a quick shower. She knew that she could leave Alex in the room alone; every time he fell asleep he was usually out like a rock until sun up. That made him a good kid compared to most of the babies she'd seen.

She tried going to sleep, and when she'd tumbled onto her bed it was rounding _11:30_, her parents still not home. She was happy that they were out and enjoying themselves. She was even happier that she had been given the chance to take care of Mark and Alex, missing the time that she'd spent with both separately but even more missing the times they spent together.

But in the darkness of her room, the moonlight peeked in and grazed across the edge of her bed. It was the only light in her room, and she attempted to squeeze her eyes shut tight and ignore them, but she hadn't been able to make it a focus in the first place. She just stared at the ceiling.

All she could remember was the hurt that had left with him in his eyes.

-

"The qualifications of all chemicals combined are more dangerous than the one chemical," Mr. Miller said, pausing for what seemed like dramatic effect. The bell rang before he could continue, and he smiled apologetically. "That's all for today. Tomorrow we are picking lab partners. You're dismissed to lunch," he said, tapping a closed fist against his desk.

She glanced back behind her, catching sight of his quiet form in the corner of her eye. The room squeaked when chairs around the room began to move across the floor, and she slid her book from the top of her desk. She shoved the book into her bag. Zipping her bag up, she noticed that he hadn't moved, and was busy staring at the book in front of him laying face open while he was playing with the corner.

Once the room was finally cleared, he closed his book and slid it off of the top of the desk to put into his bag. She sighed, standing up from the confinements of the desk and looking down at him with wondering eyes. He looked up at her, and zipped up his bag before standing while slinging it over his shoulder.

"What's going on, Luka?" she asked as he started to pass her. He stopped, his back to her, and sighed while dragging a hand through his hair. She reached forward and wrapped her hand around his wrist, not willing to let him go without a small fight. "Is this about last night?" she asked, her eyebrows suddenly furrowing.

"What about last night? Last night I learned about predicate nominatives and adjectives. There's no way to make that into something it isn't," he sighed exasperatingly, shaking his head. She squeezed his wrist as she maneuvered around him, and her gentle eyes caught his angry eyes.

"No. No, there isn't. So, why are you so mad?" she asked, her eyes narrowing at him in confusion. He sighed again, turning away from her with slowly softening eyes. Her hand slid down his wrist and her hand slid into his. His hand was loose around hers, but he did slightly grasp her hand.

"I'm not mad, Sam. I'm just a little confused and freaked out finding out that you have a child," he said, his voice quickly getting quiet with every word that escaped his lips. "Although, I guess I can understand. Look at you," he said, his eyes rolling out of the window. She let a quiet laugh escape from her lips while shaking her head.

"I really wouldn't have expected anything less than confusion, and I'm really surprised that you didn't find out about Alex sooner. We're getting so close. We're getting to be friends. I don't expect anything from you, I just want for us to be friends. Do you not want that?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows. His eyes dropped down to hers, and he sighed. He squeezed her hand in his.

"We are friends, Sam. I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have your guidance walking through these halls," he said, shaking his head with a shrug. Sam nodded, and her eyes drifted to her watch. She tugged his hand towards the door, and was a bit surprised when he followed her half step to the door.

"You want to walk me?" she asked him for the first time. For the entire month that he'd walked her home during lunch, he'd walked her because he'd asked her, and he was taken aback by her asking him. He walked beside her, his hands shoved in his coat pockets since she had dropped his hand so they could walk through the door.

"Yeah. Yeah. I still think that you shouldn't walk alone," he smiled sheepishly. She shook her head, sighing with a soft laugh. They walked in silence down the hallway, and the sunlight peeking in through the window of the door lit up the tan and white tile ground.

"Do you have any, I don't know," she shrugged, "any questions?" And those doors secluding them from the outside light flew open, causing them each to involuntarily squint. She crossed her arms across her chest, and looked over at him expectantly. He arched an eyebrow, and looked down at her while dragging a hand through his short hair.

"Is his dad, you know, walking around these halls everyday? Does he pass by you everyday ignoring his responsibilities?" he asked. She sighed, biting her bottom lip, not expecting that to be his first question. Although, she could understand how that could be his first question.

"Umm, no. Actually he doesn't," she said, shaking her head. He continued to look down at her, even when her eyes locked on the white concrete inches away from the curb to cross the street. She exhaled shakily before looking back up.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes still cast down at her. She nodded her head, and her eyes glazed over with fresh tears. She looked over at him, questioning herself as to rather she should say anything more than she already had.

"His father just doesn't care much for him. He actually doesn't care much for anybody. As much as I wish he did care about Alex, for his sake, he probably never will. God, he's such a loser," she said her voice ruder than it had ever sounded, "I don't know why I ever fell for him," she added, shaking her head with her shaky words. She was trying to be strong for Alex, for herself, but she was getting tired of being strong. She just wanted to be herself.

"I'm sure that he had something good about him," he said, pulling his hand from his pocket. He questioned himself as to why he was sticking up for this guy, as though he was saying that it was a good thing for her to have Alex in her life. He reached out, and placed his palm atop her head. "He doesn't deserve you, Sam," he said gently and breathlessly. He tried to smile, but his desperation to make her feel better seeped through his features.

"He doesn't deserve Alex. Hell, I don't deserve Alex," she said, furrowing her eyebrows and shaking her head. He sighed as his face contorted in disbelief, his nose wrinkled at its bridge. "Do you believe that you deserve everything that happens to you? The good or the bad?" she asked.

"No. I believe that you deserve the good stuff that happens, and the bad stuff happens to you because of other people's bad decisions. I think that some things are deserved and some things aren't. I think that you deserve Alex, and your strength is enough to guide him through life. And I think that he deserves to have you as a mother," he said, keeping his hand firmly on her head.

"He's the reason why I don't spend time with the other people in my life. I hate asking my mother to watch him while I go to school, and I'm not going to ask her to do anymore than she already does. Even through all of that, he's the most perfect thing in my life," she said.

His hand finally slid from her hair, his fingertips lingering on the soft curls of hair on her shoulder. She didn't notice that his hand lingered on her, she was too busy being baffled that someone just wanted to be with her. He withdrew his hand and shoved it back into his coat pocket, seeking out the warmth that it had to offer.

-

She thought of him. Not the old him she used to think about, but a new him who was actually worthy of playing the part. It had hit her suddenly, she was thinking of him and what he was doing instead of worrying about everything else.

It felt nice not to worry, and it felt good to think about someone who'd never laid an angry hand on her or someone who'd expressed a sincere interest of getting to know her. Her thoughts were clouded of someone who'd wanted to see Alex; someone else who shared the newfound interest in basking in the presence of the little boy.

Growing closer together as friends was putting awkwardness to her feelings. She had shared her feelings with Alex, as though she was asking his permission to move on from his father, but the closest thing that she could get as an answer from him was the way he'd light up every time Luka would come into the room. He seemed to giggle at everything that Luka said or did.

She always seemed to get herself into trouble when she'd look in on Luka gazing over Alex, or holding Alex, or making Alex laugh. Everything about Luka was what she hoped for Alex's dad to be, but he hadn't shown half as much interest that Luka had. Luka was a special kind of guy; one that would be very difficult to replace.

Through to the middle of October had been the same since she'd shared that talk with Luka. He'd walk her home before lunch, usually getting something from her house to eat on the way back to school, he'd go to her house for help with homework, and he'd continue falling in love with Alex as if he was his own son. Mark had even warmed up enough to Luka that he'd beg Luka to play games with him in his room. But she wondered if throughout that time he'd even given her a second thought. Maybe he was too busy falling in love with Alex to think about her, or too busy spending time with Mark to think about her.

-

She was busy in the living room, checking over her Geometry homework to think that he'd be thinking of her, especially since he was in Mark's room playing with him.

"Listen, Mark, I'm going to go talk to your sister for a while," he smiled apologetically, setting the playstation controller down on the floor in front of him. Mark looked up, his fingertips tracing the controller in his hands. Luka reached over and placed his hand on top of Marks' head, "is that okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, you are her friend," he shrugged, smiling understandingly. Luka furrowed his eyebrows, and ruffled Mark's hair. He stood up and walked out of the room, but he paused in the doorway, watching Mark starting to get into another game.

"You know? I'm your friend too," Luka said, and then he bit down on his bottom lip. He smiled with his lip still in his mouth. Mark paused the game and glanced back at Luka with a smile, nodding. He nodded too before walking out of Mark's room and into the living room.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Sam asked, her eyes still fixated on her paper in her hands. He shrugged, collapsing onto the couch beside her. "Are you?" she asked again, her eyes drifting over towards him. He was laidback on the couch, his bottom lip still perched between his teeth, and he shrugged again.

"I think that my mom wanted me home tonight for dinner. She misses me," he smiled sheepishly, his bottom lip flying from his teeth. She momentarily closed her eyelids to roll her eyes behind them, and she looked back at him with a smiling glare. His look matched hers as he shrugged again.

"Momma's boy. Momma's boy," she teased, and she licked her lips in satisfaction. He sat upright, his glare intensifying and his lips warningly sticking out. She set her homework stack down on the coffee table in front of the couch, and did her best to match his look without laughing.

"Say that again and I'll have to beat you down," he warned sternly. She grinned, amused in his attempts to be scary, and she wrinkled her nose a bit. He cocked his jaw, challenging her to say it again.

"Momma's boy," she uttered slowly and defiantly. His hands moved at breakneck speed as they wrapped around her wrist. He loosened his grip as he shifted both of her wrists into the one of his hands, and he pinned them to the couch to be sure he could securely keep her in place.

She squirmed a little before he even laid his other hand on her, and she squirmed more once his hand was on her stomach, flying across it to tickle her. She held in her laugh, trying to keep him from knowing he'd won, but it soon elicited from her gasp. She fell onto the back of the couch, and he leaned over her.

Next thing he knew, his weight was across her as his lips where on hers, and he had blanked out until he felt her reciprocate his actions. He let down his defense, and pulled his hand down to her cheek, while with the freedom of her arms, she wrapped them around his neck. He didn't know why he did it, but he was glad that she did it back.

-

Ricky Allmen threw a punch and it hit Peter Crackin directly in the jaw. Suddenly, there was a split of the crowd, and it formed an 'o' around the fighting men. The stale sound of Peter's back being rammed into the metal locker echoed down the hall as no one moved to do anything to stop the fight.

The crowds hushed in the narrow hall, and Peter pulled his tired body from the locker in an angry fury. He rushed at Ricky, and wrapped his arms around his torso before knocking him into the lockers harder than he had hit the lockers himself. Ricky doubled over in severe pain in his back, but was still unwilling to give up his fight.

"Luka! Help me!" John shouted, tugging his arm as he quickly passed by him. That's when the fight caught his attention for the first time, and the scene in front of him took him aback. John dropped his books as Luka did the same right outside of the crowded circle.

They each tore through the crowd, and once meeting the edge of the circle, could have a clear view of the actual fight. Each one rushed to throw their hands between the two fighters. Luka's hands pressed hard against Peter's shoulders, and John's did the same to Ricky.

Luka pushed him back, his body a barricade from reaching Ricky, and he continued pushing until Peter hit the lockers hard again. Peter found himself pinned between Luka and the lockers. His eyes were still in a mad fury as his arm still wailed until it hit something. Luka's head followed the direction that Peter's fist had been thrown, the impact to his skull causing an automatic stinging pain.

John wrapped his arms around Ricky's shoulders, not allowing him any breathing room to find an escape. Ricky continued to breathe hard in his anger, his heavy breathing a deafening noise directly in John's ear. John's focus ripped from containing Ricky when he heard skin crash against skin again, and he glanced at Luka, who had one hand pressed to his head and the other pushed against Peter's chest.

John narrowed his eyes, slightly surprised that someone would continue throwing punches with someone who was an easy 6'4" stature standing near them. John shook his head, looking back at Ricky's angry face again, and Ricky's face seemed to suddenly light up. John glanced behind him again.

Luka bit his bottom lip, and the hand being held to his head was suddenly trembling in a balled up fist. His hand pressed harder against Peter's chest, his palm shaking over Peter's thick sternum. His eyes bore holes of anger deep into Peter, and Peter's anger suddenly disappeared as his eyes widened at Luka in fear.

"I'm not going to hit you," Luka said with a tight jaw and his accent coming in thick. He said this to Peter's slightly trembling form, the fear of being hit in such a vulnerable position taking him over. His one hand pushed him against the locker again as his hand left Peter's body, both hands dropping as he turned to get lost within the midst of the crowd.

John released Ricky, as Ricky's angry eyes caught the fear withstanding in Peter's. Ricky continued to glare at Peter as he turned to pick up his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he became lost in the crowd too.

John pursed his lips together, inhaling a deep breath as he searched for some clean air. Luka disappeared from his vision, the wash of the crowd unable to grasp his firm stance. John shook his head again before looking at Peter, still standing in a fearful shock.

Luka's palm was pressed against the spot he had been hit at, and as he rounded the corner, the sun flashed in his eye, causing for the sharp pain to flicker into a deep pain. He was partially hoping to be alone, slightly disgusted in himself as the old feeling of wanting to run rushed back over him. He wanted to use his frequent flyer miles again, escape from the barricades of the anger he possessed.

There was a frail hand that wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back and gently pushing him against the lockers. He smiled when he was forced to drop his books to the floor, and her hands pressed into his. The metal was cold against the back of his hand, but he locked his fingers around hers.

She leaned her body into him, and he inhaled a deep breath through his smile. He had to lean down for his lips to meet hers, surprised when his bottom lip was caught between her teeth. His back pressed against the locker evenly, and he wrapped his arms slightly around her torso with her hands still locked in his, holding her into him.

His tongue flicked across hers, and he inhaled a deep breath. Her mouth covering his left him in disappointment with its departure. He playfully glared at her before smiling and leaning his head back against the lockers.

"Hello," she whispered with a smile, her lips still near the crook of his neck. She pushed his hands back against the lockers, attempting to be in control. She needed some control at the moment, and she thought that the only way she'd ever be sure this was a good idea was if she was in control. The thing that she was to work on the most, though, was to get her feelings in check.

"Good morning," he nodded slightly. He was surprised at how natural it felt to kiss her, and he was suddenly baffled by her presence. She pushed herself off of him by using his hands against the locker, but before she could move very far away from him she was being pulled back. She looked at him with a slightly cocked eyebrow and a smile.

"Yes, it is," she agreed. She had to freak out because she had no control over her feelings, as much as she wanted to she couldn't. She glanced towards the doors to the outside for clarity, and looking back at him she was immediately confused.

Then he remembered, he didn't want to be away, not if he had the chance to be pressed up against the lockers like he currently was.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4 – The Price of an Impulse War_**

"Remember those two guys that we broke up from fighting in the hall?" John asked in a low whisper, not loud enough for anyone else in their classroom to hear. The class around them was still talking because Mr. Myers, the Algebra 2 teacher, still hadn't made it back from a lunch meeting. The loud roars tearing through the air as it was coming from everyone's mouth, made Luka and John both have to lean towards the other just to hear.

"Yeah. I must have really scared that Peter guy," Luka said, wincing apologetically, but he did momentarily touch his fingertips to the side of his head in remembrance. John smiled, shaking his head, and he leaned closer in. Both pairs of eyes were facing the front of the room, the only evidence that they were actually talking existing in their massive leans towards the other man.

"I saw him this morning. Eyes wandering all over the place," John laughed, and Luka's eyebrows dropped sympathetically. "But, they seemed to be fighting about Ricky's little sister," he continued once his laugh had sobered up, "she's like 14." John shrugged.

"What happened for them to fight like that?" Luka asked, furrowing his eyebrows in curiosity. He remembered that Peter could throw a good punch, and probably an even better one if he had a target. He was certain that Peter was the one getting punched first, Ricky was much smaller than Luka himself, and he almost went down with one punch.

"I guess Peter got Ricky's little sister, you know? He got her a little mature for her age, if you know what I mean," John's voice was still quiet, but it was ever changing. Luka's look turned to confusion, shaking his head to convey that he didn't understand what John meant. "He got her pregnant," John said quietly through clenched teeth.

"Oh," Luka laughed at himself while shaking his head. "Wow, 14. That's pretty young," Luka's eyebrow arched as he glanced around the room. No one else in the room was even taking interest in their conversation, but with the way their school seemed to work everyone else probably already knew anyway.

"Yeah, that is young. But after hearing that I was kind of glad that you scared him. Ricky's just a little disappointed that you didn't throw a sucker punch into Peter's face," John shook his head. His shoes squeaked on the floor as he dragged his foot across the tile. He tapped his hand against the desktop in front of him, his thoughts immediately flying to Sam and the aforementioned father.

"I hate it when that happens. How old is Peter? 17? 18?" Luka asked, lifting his hand and pressing it across his forehead. John shook his head, glancing towards Luka out of the corner of his eye.

"He's like, 19. That's illegal here," John said, squinting to think back on the studied laws. Luka nodded in agreement, before pursing his lips. He then shook his head, almost as though he was challenging John's knowledge.

"It's not illegal if the younger party wants it, you know? If the cops are called, it isn't considered statutory rape unless they say that they didn't want it," his accent made the words a little more difficult for John to understand than usual, but he and Luka had been friends for a while and he was getting used to the accent. Luka sighed tiredly. He was tired of waiting for something to do in that class.

"Sorry I'm late," Mr. Myers announced walking into the classroom. The 6'0" tall teacher waved his hand apologetically, but his face said otherwise. His face showed that he was tired, and maybe even slightly frightened. "We found out that my wife's having triplets," he groaned, crushing the open book to the desk.

-

He sat in the cold, metal bleachers over looking the soccer field, and he watched his little brothers practice with, what he considered, a rather talented team. He had considered traveling the distance to the top of the bleachers, but then reconsidered it when the light breeze blew past him. He had already warmed the seat that he was sitting in.

Michael kicked the soccer ball down the field, sending it further than Luka had ever seen him send it, but his kick was ignored as the coach pointed an angry finger at Ivan and motioned him towards him. Luka perked up, gazing at Ivan in complete and utter concern. He hurried to his feet, knowing that Ivan could more than likely explode at any given moment.

Ivan seemed to remain calm, but he passed an angry glare at Michael. Luka's gaze frantically shifted between his two little brothers, and he breathed out a worried breath. Ivan's face grew cold, and he glanced around the area, his eyes landing on Luka and he immediately straightened up.

Ivan ran back onto the field, accepting Michael's friendly pat, and it gave Luka the confirmation that it was okay to sit. His seat was cold when he sat back down on it. He shook his head, shifting into an even colder seat as he was searching for his old warm seat.

His eyes were fixed on his little brothers getting back into the practice, and he was caught off guard by the sound of footsteps clanging against the bleachers. The echo of boots crashing against the metal rang out in his ears, and they stopped when she sat down beside him. He glanced at the human figure that had sat down beside him, and smiled when he saw it was her.

"I was looking for you," she accused playfully, lifting her hand and resting it on his shoulder. Her fingertips brushed through the hair directly above his ear, and his eyes traced across the side of her face. "Is this where you've been?" she asked, glancing across the field.

"Yeah. I'm just watching my little brothers," he shrugged, gesturing to the green field. She nodded, noting that it had a good pedicure for a field. Her fingertips ran across the bump on his head, and he inhaled a deep breath to accompany his wince. Her eyes immediately narrowed in his direction.

"What?" she asked, shaking her head. Her fingertips immediately stopped gliding through his hair, and she pressed two fingers against his head. "What the hell happened to you?" she asked, her face mirroring the panic in her voice.

"I just got hit yesterday breaking up a fight. I'm okay," he insisted, glancing at the field. He saw her narrow her eyes at him in the corner of his eye, and his head whipped back towards her. "Don't look at me like that," he told her, laughing in the back of his throat.

"Like what?" she asked, feigning innocence. He lifted a hand and patted her thigh.

"Like you don't believe me. John and I broke up those two guys fighting in the hall. When the one guy hit me, I must admit that I almost clobbered him," he almost laughed, instead, he bit his bottom lip to not laugh at the way he disgusted himself the day before.

"Clobbered?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. He looked at her with the same look, almost playfully mocking her. She shook her head at his look, and withdrew her hand back to her lap. She pushed her palms together and rested them between her knees, pressing her knees together to collect warmth in her hands.

"Yeah, you know? Punched. I had that guy up against the locker, and I was so close to doing it before I realized that it was exactly what we had left Croatia for. We left Croatia to get away from the fighting. I just don't think that I want to be a part of that here," he said, shaking his head. She smiled sympathetically. He gave her a blank stare, "don't do that."

"Okay. What do you want me to do? Geez," she replied defensively. She lifted her hands and slammed her palms against her thighs, a slight desperation obvious in her glance towards him. He smirked, and reached over, engulfing her hands in his one hand.

"Just keep doing what you usually do. I like you that way. Except maybe a little bit more, I don't know," he shrugged, sliding a little closer to her, "kissing and stuff." He shrugged with a smile. She laughed in the back of her throat, shaking her head.

"Come on. I can't believe that you just sold me on that," she sighed, rolling her eyes. He squeezed her hand, leaning towards her and pressing his lips into hers and her hand found its way to his cheek. He slipped his arm behind her and braced himself on his arm. Pulling back, he smiled beneath her fingertips.

"That just keeps getting better," he said softly, throwing his leg over the bleacher seat and facing her. He placed his hand beneath his chin, and his elbow met his propped knee. He smiled, reaching his other hand out and rubbing her upper arm.

"It's only happened like 8 times," she said, shaking her head with squinted eyes. He laughed, shaking his head too.

"Yes, but in 3 days," he reasoned, "and it's 23 times, but who's counting?" He smiled sheepishly, his gaze turning away from her and checking on his little brothers, more importantly, checking on Ivan. He panicked, and he quickly stood up.

Ivan hit the ground face first, and he quickly pushed himself up. His jaw clenched and he threw a punch in the direction of the kid who'd slide tackled him. The kid hit the ground, and Ivan jumped on top of him, pulling a fist back to punch the kid.

His flying hand was caught by Luka, who'd sprinted to his little brother at the sight of his arm whirling back. Luka tightened his grasp around Ivan's closed fist, and he pulled him up. Ivan looked at Luka angrily and charged at him, prepared to punch him in the gut.

"Ivan! Stop it!" Luka yelled, blocking Ivan's fist from hitting him in the gut. He gathered Ivan in his arms, and threw him over his shoulder. He carried him off of the field, all the while getting punched in the back. "Come on, Michael. I don't want you walking home alone," Luka said, wincing when he got punched in the shoulder blade.

Luka walked quickly through the gate and started to walk down the sidewalk to get to their house, Michael walking slightly in front of Sam. She'd grabbed his shoulder and suggested to him to just walk behind so he didn't get hit too. Although, with every punch that Ivan threw into Luka's back, she winced, having no other choice but to look in that direction.

Luka walked into his house, walked into Ivan and Michael's room, and threw Ivan onto his bed; he immediately walked out, shutting the door hard behind him. He walked back into the living room to find Michael tense and silent, obviously embarrassed by what his little brother had just done. Luka sat down beside him, and ruffled the hair on Michael's head.

"You know, I thought that the doctor's had gotten that under control, too," he said, smiling at Michael sympathetically. Sam quietly set Ivan and Luka's bags on the floor beside the couch, and she crossed her arms to make her way back to the doorframe. Michael looked over at Luka with his eyes glazed over.

"I didn't like the way that he just kept hitting you," Michael agreed, shaking his head. Sam watched Luka with his little brother from the doorway. She hadn't really had the chance to watch him with his little brothers, but she had spent little time with them.

"I'd rather it be me than you, or that other kid. He used to do that to you when he was little. I'm just glad that nobody got hurt," he smiled. "Why don't you play some video games before mom and dad get home from work?" he suggested to Michael, glancing at Sam in the doorway.

"Okay," he nodded. Luka watched Michael pass him and grab the controller before sitting on the floor in front of the TV. He turned to Sam, and he smiled. He stood from the couch, and walked towards her. He released an exaggerated sigh and raised his eyebrows.

"Can I talk to you outside, please?" he asked her. She had placed a hand on his arm, and she nodded to answer his question. She led him out of the front door, and the door gently shut behind them. He leaned back against the cement railing on their stoop, his hands pressing firmly against the railing, and she did the same with her arms folded.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked sincerely.

"I handled it the best way I could," he shrugged, looking over at her. Her head went as high as the top of his shoulder, and he lifted the hand closest to her to drag his hand through her hair. "I'm sorry that you had to see that. I wasn't expecting it. It hasn't happened in a long time," he shook his head.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, reaching her hand up and brushing it across his back as though she was checking for any more bumps. He nodded, but still noticeably winced when her fingertips grazed over his shoulder blade. She furrowed her eyebrows, reaching her other hand around and lifting up the back of his shirt.

She slipped her hand up in the back of his shirt, raising it higher to look at his back. There was a big red spot across his shoulder, and she grazed her fingertips across the area again. He winced again, the added combination of her fingertips grazing the new bruise and the breeze whipping across his exposed back skin.

"It's just a bruise. It'll go away," he said softly, peering at her over his shoulder. Her fingertips slid down his back as she dropped his shirt, and he turned beneath her touch, making her fingertips slid across his sides. "I'm guessing that you need to get home," he smiled.

"Yeah, I probably do," she smiled the same as him. Her hand drew back from him, and he pressed his lips to hers before she could turn away. Pulling back, he lightly kissed her again before turning back into his house. She pushed her fingertips to her lips before disappearing towards her house.

-

There was a light knock on the heavy wooden door, interrupting the history of American government. Everyone was relieved for the interruption, the evidence resting in the sighs being released into the air around the room. A good sum of books being slammed quickly followed behind the sighs.

Mr. Mac's feet shuffled against the tile as he walked towards the door, and he opened the door as reluctantly as anyone ever could. The class fell silent as the echoing noises of a static voice flaked out of an intercom. Mr. Mac stood awkwardly, glancing back into the classroom full of students.

"Can I help you, Officer?" his voice trembled slightly in the direction of the cause of his discomfort. Mr. Mac seemed too troubled for something the police more than likely knew nothing about, but Luka's glance gave him the chance to catch the officer peeking into the room.

"Is a one, Peter Crackin present in your class?" the officer asked, not totally sure of what this young man looked like. Luka froze, nervously glancing at Peter, catching him fidget against the desk and amongst the drowning crowd. Luka's heart seemed to stop in fear for this guy who he'd almost hit himself, and Sam noticed his discomfort. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on his upper arm.

"Yes – yes, I think that he is," Mr. Mac sighed, glancing back into his classroom full of students, "Crackin! Get up here!" Mr. Mac's discomfort shifted into Peter's discomfort. Peter knew what it was about, and he didn't know that anyone else in the room did, but Luka did too. As Peter passed him, Luka offered an apologetic smile.

"Are you okay, Luka?" Sam asked, furrowing her eyebrows in his direction. His eyes tore away from Peter and he nodded, covering her hand with his.

"Of course. I'm fine," he feigned, giving her hand a squeeze. Her fingertips slid from his arm as her eyes looked at him with question. "I'm fine. I am. I'm really fine. Thanks," he smiled sincerely, his insisting the thanks to her.

"You wouldn't happen to know what's going on, do you?" she asked in a low voice, slightly accusingly. His lips parted defensively before he relented, and his body collapsed in his seat.

He nodded sheepishly, "yes. It's so very complicated, and I'd prefer to tell you later." She squinted at him, pondering his request. Her eyes searched through his, and she hesitantly nodded.

"Okay, but you better tell me the truth about your head then," she said, twisting her jaw. He nodded, and both of them struggled to get a peek of what was going on outside. Next thing Luka saw was a piece of folded up paper being flashed at Peter, and the jingling of metal handcuffs went silent as they clicked around Peter's wrists. Luka noticeably winced, glancing back Sam nervously.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5 – The Pain Really Didn't Hurt_**

He pressed his hand against hers, attempting to get over his new and recent insecurities. It wasn't working all too well because he was worrying that he was hurting her. He pulled his hand away from hers, the only thing keeping their hands together being the grip that she snatched up before he could completely move his hand. He bit his bottom lip, trying to ease his hand against hers.

But when she moved her hand in his again, he tensed. Her eyes angrily shot over at him, getting a little angry at his continuous fidgeting, and she released an angry breath to fight from clenching her jaw tight together. She squeezed his hand angrily before dropping it and shifting on the couch.

"What is your problem? You've been acting like this almost all day," she huffed, glaring at him from the corner of her eye. He shifted in his seat, grabbing her wrist when she moved to get off of the couch and away from him. She looked back at him, continuing to glare until she saw the hurt resting in his eyes.

"I'm sorry. It's nothing," he said, immediately dropping her wrist. "I'm sorry," he said again quickly, gesturing to her hand. She shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows. She reached her hand forward and wrapped it around his wrist, crashing her hand back into his and rubbing her palm against his palm.

"It's not nothing. It's not nothing if every time I move when you're near me you tense up. It bothers me a little to know that I make my boyfriend uncomfortable," she told him. He looked down when her fingers locked into his, and he lifted his free hand from his lap and dragged it through his hair. She put her index finger beneath his chin and guided his eyes back to hers, her eyes wide.

"_You_ don't make me uncomfortable. What happened today in history makes me uncomfortable," he said pointedly, slightly pulling away from her hand. She dropped her hand from his chin, clashing against his thigh in exasperation. She just didn't understand what he meant by that. He hadn't quite explained what happened in history to her yet.

"Why would that make _you_ uncomfortable, Luka? It has nothing to do with you," she replied evenly, shaking her head frantically. He leaned forward and scooted closer to the edge of the seat. He didn't like knowing that being near his girlfriend and touching her exactly the way she wanted him to, could cause for him to get into serious trouble.

"You just, you don't know everything," he sighed. He glanced up at her and found her eyes staring at him accusingly and she opened her mouth to say something. "I know that I told you I'd tell you, but it's just, weird," he interrupted her attempted speech. He sighed again and dragged his hand through his hair.

"But, would it explain why you're acting like you're going to break me?" she asked. She was onto him, he knew it, and it scared him a little bit. He couldn't even have an incomplete thought without her already having deciphered what he was doing. He paused with squinted eyes, and turned to look her.

"Yes, it would," he nodded sheepishly. Her eyes prompted him to continue, she was almost unwilling to say anything else. "Ricky and Peter were fighting because Peter got Ricky's 14 year-old sister a little, mature for her age," he said nervously, using the words that John had used to explain it to him.

"Oh my god. And that's why he got arrested?" she asked with furrowed eyebrows. He nodded and he locked his eyes with hers. She reached for his hands to entwine her fingers with his, but he retracted his hand before she could lock their fingers together.

"There's more to it than that," he shook his head, and he pushed his palms together. He entwined his fingers together, not giving her a chance to try to touch him again. "I can't tell you exactly what it is, but it has nothing to do with you," he bit his bottom lip, scared that she would get upset with him.

"Except that it has everything to do with me, Luka. You aren't going to break me," she said shaking her head, narrowing her eyes at him. "Besides, we both still have all of our clothes on," she tried to joke, but it just wasn't worth it. At the mention of clothes, he shifted in his seat.

"Don't joke about that, Sam. It's not funny. I could go to jail," he said, "I'm just lucky that I can't get arrested for my thoughts." She arched an eyebrow, and reached over. She put her hand on his forearm, and she scooted towards him again.

"You wouldn't get arrested. You'd just be deported," she shrugged jokingly. She then wondered why she couldn't just be serious about stuff like this, and in the back of her mind she knew it was because he just made her so happy that she didn't care. She leaned forward as she slid her hand in between his pressed together palms. "Look, I know the law, Luka. Let's just say, I've been in those shoes before, and I never pressed charges," she said, shaking her head.

"Your parents could press charges," he said.

"But they won't. I mean, don't think they never talked to me about it. They believe that I have to take responsibility for my own actions, regardless of what the law is," she shook her head. He wanted to flinch with her hand in his, but he couldn't. "Besides, with you," she didn't finish her statement.

"With me what?" he asked, finally relaxing a little and letting her lift his hand from his lap. She just smiled and pursed her lips. She shook her head, pressing her palm into his. She narrowed her eyes at him, and turned her body towards him too.

"Tell me something. Do you like this?" she asked, pressing her lips to his. He felt her lean into him, and he slid his free hand around her back. She pushed him backwards, until his back was hard pressed against the arm of the couch. She pulled his hand from hers, and she slid her arms around his neck.

She pulled her lips from his with a smirk, and he rolled his eyes. He nodded as she kissed him again, and she shoved her fingertips into the hair at the back of his head. Their tongues entangled differently than they ever had before. It was as though it was a fight to break down these walls that would keep them apart. He pulled back from her as their eyes locked.

"I didn't hear any objections," she said. He smiled sheepishly as he looked down at his hands and tapped his fingertips against his thigh. He slid his arm around her waist, and he pulled her close to him.

"You'll never hear any objections from me ever again. Not because of that," he joked, reaching over and grabbing her hand in his. He entwined his fingers with hers, and he bounced his shoulder into hers. "Hey, I'm sorry about today," he said gently, squeezing her fingers with his fingers. She nodded, biting her bottom lip. She leaned forward and picked up her geometry book laying open on the coffee table.

-


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6 - War With An Ex-Lover_**

"Who is he, Sam?" Steve pressed, his jaw tightening in anger. She threw a sharp glare his way and continued walking down the sidewalk. He followed close behind her, his angry steps echoing through the empty street surrounding them.

"He is someone not of your concern," she continued walking, her hands tightly gripping her folded upper arms out of anger. Steve huffed in anger, throwing his hands into the air before slamming them against his head. He then sighed exasperatingly again, picking up his pace to catch up behind her.

"I think that he is. You spend all of your time with him. You let him spend time with Alex," his teeth were clenched tighter than before. She exhaled deeply, shaking with anger as she did. She lifted a hand and pressed her fingertips against her forehead, brushing them down her face.

"I let him spend time with Alex because he wants to spend time with Alex," she sighed angrily, stopping and abruptly turning around to face the man that never failed to make her angry, despite that he'd fathered the most important thing in her life. "Which is more than I can say for you," she added angrily, clutching herself again.

"You won't let me do anything with him. You won't even let me take him to the park or anything," he replied evenly, narrowing an eye at her. She shook her head angrily, and turned to continue heading to her house. Her steps were angrier than his, and the sound of her boots with 2-inch heels gave her away.

"If you were to take him to the park you'd lose him. You don't even know what he looks like," she said, shaking her head. Her voice was getting quieter, calmer. She knew that this fight wasn't worth it, but she also knew that this walk to her house would prompt another fight.

She was screwed. If she were to walk home alone, Luka would be angry. But walking it with Steve, even though she would rather not be, didn't guarantee that there wouldn't be a fight with him. It would probably compel the fight that would force him to ask the questions he hadn't worked up the courage to yet.

"That's not fair, Sam. You let this guy that I don't even know take my son around without you there. You let this guy be a father to my son," he said, shaking his head in fervent anger. He stepped hard behind her, hoping to scare her into stopping her walk home. She kept walking, which just angered him more.

"This guy has a name," she said through clenched teeth, quickly stopping and glaring at him. Her hands wrung around her upper arms, squeezing them so tight that she shook again. "And this guy showed interest when you didn't. He loves Alex in a way that you never wanted to," she shook her head again.

"Just let me see you again. I miss you," he said, reaching out and placing his hand on her elbow. His hand was gently resting on her, and he'd never been gently with her like that before. As much as she'd tried to reason at him in the beginning, she wasn't going to mess with him now, despite how gentle he was being.

"That guy cares an awful lot about your son, and he cares an awful lot about me. You know what, Steve? He's taken on your responsibility, even when I asked him not to, he did," she shook her head, and turned on her heel to walk past the three houses to her house. Steve stood there, before reaching out and grabbing her elbow. She hadn't taken many steps away from him.

"Do you love him?" Steve asked with a sigh accompanied to his question. She stopped and turned to face him. She smiled apologetically and shoved her hands deeper into the crevices of her elbows.

"I think that I might be falling in love with him. And the thing about the relationship between me and him is, if I'm ever sure, all I have to do is say it," she nodded slowly. The lips of the man before her pursed together, speechless, and he dragged a hand through his hair while looking away from her.

And she turned on her heel to walk the rest of the way down the street.

-


End file.
